


A Prince Is Born

by alassenya



Series: Pride, Passion and Prejudice [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Omens & Portents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 23:27:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13110756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alassenya/pseuds/alassenya
Summary: In which Galadriel sees Narsil reforged and Celeborn is reminded of past indiscretions. (A prologue to the series)





	A Prince Is Born

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Originally written and posted (to FFN) in 2004.
> 
> 2\. Celeborn’s history is given in at least four different versions in Tolkien’s writings. I have chosen here to take the history as given in the Silmarillion, where Galadriel and Celeborn meet in Doriath, and in the essay “Concerning Galadriel and Celeborn” (Unfinished Tales), where their journeys through Beleriand and Eriador are described.

_Lothlórien: Third Age 2390_

Ithil kissed the mountains to the west as Galadriel slipped back into the bedchamber. Celeborn was still lying awake, waiting for her return from the mirror. He noticed that she was sombre, as she often was after scrying.

“What did you see?”

“Thranduil has another son. He is called Legolas.”

“Legolas?”

“In their dialect it means Laisgelin - Green Leaves.”

“A beautiful name.”

She sighed. “The prince, too, will be beautiful...” Her voice trailed off, but Celeborn knew that there was more.

“And...?”

“And deadly.”

“Evil? A creature of shadow?”

“Not of himself, no. But he will be a focus of passion, of longing, and of despair. His presence on Middle Earth will cause grief to countless souls, and death to some.”

“This is grievous news indeed. Should we warn Thranduil? Should we advise him to send the child to Valinor where he can do no harm?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

She cast a bitter glance at him. “Apart from the fact that my scrying can be grossly misinterpreted” – Celeborn looked uncomfortable but kept silent – “I think that Legolas may also be the key to the final overthrow of Sauron.”

“How is that?”

“You know that several times in the mirror I have seen a human man wielding Narsil reforged, fighting the dark forces. I have hoped that what I see is the moment when the Dark Lord is overthrown forever.” She shivered, and Celeborn hugged her close.

“I know, love. And we all hope that it will come to pass.”

“Tonight I saw another face, behind that man’s. An elf, who looked like Thranduil but was not Thranduil, nor Oropher. I think it may have been Legolas.”

“Was he with the man or against him?”

“I could not tell. They fought, but not each other. It was dark, and raining, and I could not see clearly ... as usual.” She sighed.

Celeborn reached out to her. “We shall invite Legolas here when he has reached his majority and you can see him in person.”

“Yes, it may be easier to view his spirit here in the forest.” She rested her head on Celeborn’s shoulder. “You are ever my comfort and strength, my dear.”

He held her close, and stroked her hair as she relaxed against him. After all centuries together, all the wars and destruction, not to mention the disaster he had precipitated during the Last Alliance, their love was still strong after many centuries, and he was thankful that they had survived. But he, who was of the Sindar, had been born in Doriath, and he was attuned to the soil and the trees of Middle-Earth in a way that Galadriel could only dimly comprehend. He could sense that their time was nearly over: only a few more centuries remained for them in this green and pleasant land, and then it would be lost to them. But not now; not just yet.

He wondered what this son of Thranduil would look like, whether he would favour his mother or his father. Celeborn had not seen Thranduil in many a year, but he remembered the elf's beauty and spirit, and hoped that the boy would inherit at least something besides the pride that tainted that whole branch.

He closed his eyes, and breathed in the fragrance of her golden hair.


End file.
